The Book of Damnation
by NickeltheRed
Summary: Based on my drabble "Lizzy to Lucy." A tale of an unraveling secret long since kept amongst the Underworld Courts. Yet, Sebastian has known these details all along. Elizabeth isn't who she seems to be, not even as a Knight. Although, one day she learns from a certain someone precisely why she was born.
1. SOS

**I own nothing. **

**This is the lengthened and much more developed concept of "**_**Lizzy to Lucy"**_**—a story which can be located in my Kuro. drabble collection **_**Life's Little Moments, **_**chapter 25**_**... **_**So, yes, I am basically plagiarizing myself, haha. ****Thanks for the support on this idea!**

**Mostly inspired by: **

**rainbowspring**

**DestinyDreamer911**

**my-bronze-haired-angel**

**Moon of Jupiter**

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

Elizabeth sat within the shadows of the enclosed stall. Her hands clutched the leather-bound book trimmed with pure gold strands, resting in her lap. It was the only thing she could think of doing with her hands in order to prevent them from clawing her flesh to bloody shreds.

She closed her eyes trying to focus on the real matter at hand. "Must I reveal my name to you?"

"That is your decision, child. It is not up to me. All sessions are confidential either way."

"Then...forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Clearly, Elizabeth had finally started her declaration of personal faults, choosing to be anonymous.

"Sins are simply mistakes." The priest offered her with a generous level of compassion. "And through our mistakes, we learn, we prosper. The Lord teaches us this. Tell me, what is it that you wish to relieve yourself from?"

"I...haven't been to mass in about thirteen years, first of all. And I guess...I couldn't think of anywhere else to find the closure that I seek." Elizabeth said faintly, feeling unsure of how to explain her condition.

Indeed, the priest noted, she was an unusual case. "Really, _thirteen_ years? Why so long, my dear?"

"I was kept away from Sunday mass since I was five years of age, Father. And kept away from the all the truths in which, I should have been told of from the beginning. See, ah, something bad happened in my family some time ago...a fire...and it was my fault. But not directly of course, but if it weren't for me...perhaps it would have never happened in the first place."

"Why do you blame yourself?" he gathered. "How do you know for certain it was your doing?"

"Because, Father...this certain assembly of people...was told of my _situation _when I was oblivious about it myself, being as young as I was then. And according to their information, there was a child born of Nobel blood—a child fated to darkness even from inside the womb, that had to be dispatched from this world—" by this point, Elizabeth was trailing off to swallow.

It was evident to him that she had to remain careful with her word choice as possible for the sake of protecting her social identity. He also could basically already predict what direction this peculiar conversation was headed towards. "Please...go on, child. It's quite alright."

And therefore, the priest listened silently and patiently, as she continued to summarize the tale. "Well...at that _exact_ time, there happened to be only _two_ children born into a couple of England's most refined families, who were close to the specific age and fit under the discription."

"One of them was our family, I assume."

"Yes, Father. It was my cousin and I." Elizabeth simplified, pausing for a moment before she finally put the story to a dramatic close. "...The attackers never thought it could ever be the _girl_."

"...I see." he reflected through a murmur.

So, it _was_ what he had been dreading. She (and her cousin) were involuntarily involved with a Cult deed of some sort.

The priest only wondered why exactly had this girl to be a Cult's target? What fragment of the puzzle was he still missing? ...She hadn't been to mass in a large amount of time...it was her cousin that happened to become the accidental victim because he was born male, since men were naturally superior...

The Church had been collecting different chains of rumors regarding Occult Leaders and their religiously-crazed Sects for the past five years at best, saying the Antichrist was already set to walk among mankind and so forth. Hushed announcements spread from one church official to the next, in warning to be on the beware. Burning houses to the ground was assumed to be the oldest signature Occult practice. Its purpose was to totally purify the supposed evil-tainted land by Holy Fire.

And it wasn't until she spoke to him again, was he given the opportunity to gather more information. "Father?"

"Yes, my child, what is it?"

"Obviously...the Bible mentions it's possible for angels to Fall from Grace—but is it also possible for one of Hell to Rise from Damnation...considering who I am, that is?"

"And _who_ are you really, child?"

"Do you want the truth, Father?"

Ever so humbly, the priest chuckled. "Yes, the truth, always."

Initially, Elizabeth refused to answer this, knowing that most likely this day was not giong to end so well. Though at last, when she had turned her head in his direction, she proclaimed cut and plain.

"I am Lucifer's daughter."

And then the priest's smile behind the screen worn out rather swiftly, like a snowflake sinking down right upon Hell's floor.

* * *

**S.O.S, meaning **_**"Save our ship!" **_**is the typical cry for help, intertwined with the alternative meaning of S.O.S, **_**"Spawn of Satan." **_**Haha.**


	2. Once upon a Devilish Time

Early one dry summer, Lucifer, the Master of rebellion and the Monarch of things evil himself, had wrote his own personal prophecies, within the pages of his Damnation Journals.

_I admit that I feel a part of myself growing tired of this title..._

_Ages have been piling upon ages, and nothing here has changed in the way as I longed for. The souls are the same, my children and followers are the same. And as powerful as I am, I still see some point in the future when I may retire. And with having that thought, comes the natural goal in obtaining an Heir to lead all my demons within the Seven Hell Kingdoms. _

_This forthcoming Heir must be of my blood to withstand the Power they shall inherit from me. Although there are many liable demonesses to select from amongst my Fallen Courts to mate with—I believe it would be most wise to make certain that the Second Devil shall become stronger yet. _

_Thus, the Devil's Power shall grow even greater if it is forged together with a mortal soul, since it is made from the magic of the Father High Above._

_I plan to announce this design to my Empire very soon and I Rise shall locate a mortal woman, who is worthy of delivering my offspring. _

_When __The Day to Come__ finally arrives, the Heir shall be drawn home to claim the Dark Empire theirs._

* * *

**6th of June, 1874**

Lucifer waited until the lunar cycle had completed its round in order to Rise temporarily. Children in the Old World were born the strongest if the delivered beneath a full moon. On top of that, anyone who was acquainted with supernatural forces knew for a fact, that the night of the full moon was the best night on which monstrosities were to be created, sort to speak.

And more fortunately for him, the full moon happened to wax on the very sixth evening, of the sixth month, at the six o'clock hour. It didn't take too long for his spirit to channel through the globe and to select a mortal mate.

It was as if it was meant to be!

There had been several choices from various countries, though Lucifer narrowed it down to a Noblewoman, Lady Frances, who lived under Queen Victoria's reign. Frances was beautiful and highly respected in social circles, but it was her soul in the end that attracted him the most. It was fueled with an unseen fire, a white-hot passion that was just waiting to lash out. And that was the very one trait he had in mind to be passed down to his child. Someone that did not have to be controlled necessarily—instead he needed a soul that would have to be _unleashed_.

She was already married to the Marquis of London, and together they shared a wealthy name, a stable home base, and one little son. This did not falter Lucifer's plan, however. The husband's muscle-suit in fact, would be quite a workable disguise.

* * *

Therefore, his entity lingered above the main doors in the front of the family's estate for another few hours, determining when his precise opportune moment would approach. Then at last the Marquis himself, exited the city night carriage which was apparently bringing him home from a late business meeting. Lucifer moved as the Marquis began to climb the marble steps, immediately putting_ Phase One_ into play. The poor ol' bloke certainly had no idea what he had coming for him. And before he was given any time to react, or even process what was confronting him, a swirling and smoldering cloud of red mist dove its way into his throat and up through his nostrils.

The eyes of the Marquis rolled back into his head at the direct contact. His internal system experienced an unnatural sensation, as it convulsed and cycled through a hot flash, then an aching chill.

But as soon as the possession took place, it was over and done with just as quickly.

Once settled deep within, Lucifer stretched the Marquis' limbs and flexed his hands, familiarizing himself with the host. He conquered the man's consciousness entirely. Occasionally, a mortal can battle for dominance with a Possessing Class demon raiding their body—though his own presence had always been far too overwhelming for most humans to even withstand. Depending on how pure his health truly was or not—the Marquis could possibly sink into a permanent comatose state after his departure, merely due to the pressure.

Although this suit fit better than Lucifer had expected with everything else shoved aside. Thus with satisfactory met, he knew it was time to shift into _Phase Two._ His private deadline was the forthcoming sunrise, and he needed to take advantage of the couple's marital bed yet.

Now wearing the Marquis as his guise at a masquerade, Lucifer went in to spend time with the family. He also filed through the man's past memories and opinions to make sure that he remained ahead of the race. This way no one would ever suspect something had gone amiss in the first place. Thankfully paranormal identity theft was a much swifter process.

That night Lucifer was more than tolerant with the mortals present. He acted humble when greeted by the household staff. He also molded into the role of the ideal father figure as he put the lad down to sleep for the second time after Edmund?—no, no, wait—_Edward, _yes, of course—had strayed from his room upon hearing his father's voice. Then lastly, Lucifer charmed the Marchioness by flickering candlelight while they sat in the Drawing Room for some time, creating polite conversation.

And once they finally put the hall lights out and shut the curtains, Lucifer had all-too-smoothly dropped the hint on their way up to the couple's bedchambers. The Marchioness briefly pondered afterwards at his wordplay. She glanced at nearest clock to discover that it was surprisingly a little past midnight already.

"Now, really, dear? Are you not tired from your business load this week?" she questioned. "We pleasured each other just the night before, when my brother took Edward out for a birthday gift, remember?"

Lucifer almost laughed at this. Generally women had never disturbed Lucifer. Not even women who were raised to become so resolute such as the Marchioness. In truth, Lucifer held a superior fascination for the female kind compared to these male _things_ crafted by the Holy Father. He learned how women thought with their hearts more over their minds, how they worked their way through man-dominated lifestyles, how they functioned under day to day stress, and how they molded their male lovers into puppets without anyone noticing. Yes, they were as alluring as they were deadly. He knew better than to take them for granted like men had for many centuries thus far. Each and every female was Pandora in one way or another. By their birthright, each and every woman was Eve. For being so..._human_, women could be such _wicked_ creatures in the most elusive and glorious means.

And because of this, Lucifer essentially had allowed himself to enjoy his time being in the Marchioness' company. She was indeed an interesting lady. Her grand posture, her political standpoints, her overall delicate yet rather fearsome attitude to those around her—all began to intrigue him more and more.

So, Lucifer simply responded to her recent wondering by drawing her in closer by the hip, guiding her the rest of the way through the door.

Currently pressing her down into the mattress, he continued using lovely whispers of infinite promises and waking dreams...

Their bodies were responding to the luring chemistry. The caressing was limitless as they progressed in spotless harmony, removing their garments and flowing into rhythm upon the sheets. And by now, it couldn't be ignored, it had to be done. More tender desire ensued and in due course, Lucifer could feel how close she was to her peek, alongside with the Marquis. Lucifer faintly rolled his eyes at one point; as thrilling as it may have felt, it was a real shame that the human body could only endure so much excitement. Physical acts of love could last perhaps twice as long, if not longer, between immortal beings since their bodies were made differently.

When that moment would arrive, nevertheless, that would the solitary moment when the Marchioness would let down her total guard completely. Lucifer was aware he would only be given that mere second to reach for her soul. He readied himself for _Phase Three_. The last Phase, but it was definitely not the least.

Following another short series of enticing movements, they finally reached their limits together—as her spent body arched its last, and after he released his mystical seed deep inside of her core, his entity sprang forth from the Marquis' body, steadfast and focused, straight into the spiritual plane connected to her.

There he saw it. The powerful, pulsating waves of her illuminated, fiery soul.

And Lucifer studied its outstanding design and structure for the certain time he was able to, before he retracted to his lair in the Underworld to spread the news of his accomplishments.

* * *

Overall, the Marquis was left undamaged and unscathed.

But he woke upon the succeeding morning beside his sleeping wife, nude and in a total daze from the extended black out. As hard as he strained his mind, he could not remember the events of the previous night whatsoever. He hadn't even recalled entering the mansion originally. Perchance it could have been the cheap brandy he tried at the recent meeting.

Nervous for his mental condition, and never been quite able to solve this haunting mystery, the Marquis chose to not voice his concern for the sake of protecting his son's happiness and to keep his wife away from dangerous gossip. Besides, he noticed that nothing went wrong with him since. He was as hale and hearty as a free stallion.

Every other aspect of his life went splendidly afterwards and everything was less problematic than ever. So deeming that his wellbeing was still impeccably intact during the next few weeks, the Marquis disregarded his short-term loss of memory.

The Marquis kept the words written in the God's book in his heart. The good Lord worked in mysterious ways, through and through. Even when a small error crossed paths with him, something even better had come out of it, which was positively worth his while. And it was not long that when he and wife had announced joyously to the public that she was with child was more.

The following Spring Equinox signaled to the Marchioness that Heaven's Grace was deciding for her to deliver their second child into the world. Hence, the Marchioness was steered into the delivery room after the first chain of contractions shook her system. The chosen midwives for this occasion hustled and scuttled about, fulfilling their obligations right down to the last detail, making certain that the Marquis was nestled into the bed as contentedly as possible.

Of course giving life to another human being was never considered an necessarily _easy_ practice. Though, at least, there were added concerns during the pushing portion.

The Marchioness was so focused on her incoming child—and her mind naturally had become too clouded with the pain to recognize the one abnormal detail standing out in the open. That the eyes of all the surrounding nursemaids—glowed red, when the child was fully freed at last.

That was when the midwife team had allowed the Marquis access to the room once they excused themselves for the night.

* * *

Days later, countless layers of grave soil and lava rock beneath, the demonesses who aided with the delivery, previously lined up in an orderly fashion. They bowed upon the floor of the Throne Room.

"Well...?" Lucifer began, half excited and almost impenitently. "What sort of word have you to bring me?"

The beautiful fair-haired demoness to the far left, Zillah of the Fallen, stood on cue. She was the one selected to play the head nurse for the Marchioness. "It was successful, Your Dark Majesty."

"And the Marchioness?" he continued.

"Alive and well."

"Good." Though, he had higher expectations for her now as the child's mother. "What of my Heir?"

"You were given a daughter, Your Dark Majesty—by the mortal name of Elizabeth."

Lucifer granted them a rewarding smile for their tasks well done. "Little Lucie, it is then."

And so, the vital report spread from one Underworld kingdom to the next. Like wildfire. Like a long whispered call that flowed on the midsummer night winds. _"Lucie has been born...Lucie has been born...Lucie has been born..."_

The news was huge for demons. This was larger than when Christ himself had descended from the Heavens to walk amongst mankind.

They were prepared for The Day to Come more than ever now, ready to carry over their allegiance over to their Father's mighty future Heir. It truly felt like the start of a new era.

They journeyed from each of the Seven Hells to all gather within the walls of their own Father's dining hall, having the similar intention of celebrating his latest victory. It had been such a privilege for the various lower-rank demonic Classes—the Possessing Class and Hob Class, for instance—to lay eyes on their striking lord, for it was their first time ever of being able to do so. Usually, only the Fallen Class interacted personally with Lucifer on a yearly basis. They were in charge of harvesting the souls on his behalf, after all.

_"To Lucie!"_ they cheered over and over, raising their goblets of poison wine and fresh blood alike in toast. _"Long live the Heir!"_

And placed at the head of the long elegantly-decorated table, Lucifer leaned towards the Fallen One on his right-hand side. "Corvus, you are one of my favorites within the Courts, as you are aware. There is a reason as to why I requested you to sit out of place at this festivity."

Corvus was strictly willing to listen, of course. He realized what an honor it was for his singular presence out of thousands to be pointedly invited. "Yes, Father?"

"...I am bestowing the duty onto you of watching over my newborn Heir, Corvus. What do think of that responsibility?"

The enormous crow did not need added time to dwell over the details of this rare assignment. Who was he to deny Lucifer? Even if Corvus had considered himself to be a freer spirit over many others, he was not in any way downright suicidal. Every other demon feared Lucifer's disappointed glare. None would ever speak of the known consequences. He would thus prove himself to remain worthy of his Father's opinion.

Besides—on the other hand, demons have heard of the extraordinary payment arranged by Lucifer if they happened to captivate his deeper admiration. "And what does this occupation entail, Father?"

"Your task is to simply watch her. You do not even have to be in her company day to day. Just merely—flit about in her life every so often—learn about her, witness her grow powerful on her own terms. Watch carefully as her soul stimulates that natural fire that is so rare to find in mortals. With added fortune on our side, Lucie has inherited her mother's traits. If so, her soul shall become bold enough to carry the Power inside it." But soon Lucifer's personal level of merriment somewhat drained away as his voice lowered itself to a frosty, testing pitch. "However—you are also to keep Lucie solely out of harm's way. This last detail is rather more crucial compared to the first part. You _do_ understand why that is...don't you, Corvus?"

_The Power..._, is what the Corvus assumed.

Of course it was exceedingly rare for demonic forces to willingly breed with mortals. And in most cases, the offspring would not be able to tap into their dark power until they became of age. Then as an adult, their body would be at its strongest, mentally and physically, and would be set to adapt to the magic. However, there was _always_ one risky exception to this rule: basic survival instincts. If the hybrid's life was threatened and pushed to the brink of total destruction...that type of blinding fear and fury could sometimes manage to awaken the power within earlier on in life. For instance, a single human mother being able to haul a tipped carriage off her crying infant was a similar situation. Instead of high adrenaline though, the hybrid would be surged with real magic. And it certainly was not percisely healthy. It could cause the hybrid's mind to grow unstable and so forth. Not to mention, their small frames of mere bone and muscle could age more rapidly from the load, or even cripple them entirely.

But Corvus figured since Lucie's Devil Power would be obviously much greater than any hybrid's ever born. It _would_ be more important for her to remain undamaged. There's no telling what calamities would happen to her, or the human world altogether, if her magic would be unleashed before she reached her twenty-first birthday.

Perfectly up to date by now, Corvus nodded reassuringly. "And how I will I find Lucie?"

Lucifer answered him, contently tracing the hissing serpent's head carved into the end of his great chair's arm. "Actually, Corvus, I thought we could allow Lucie to encounter you first. Provoke her curiosity, if you will. Let her pull you into her life."

Corvus bowed his head again in traditional respects, neatly folding back his large shadowed feathered wings. He snapped his beak, saying, "As you wish, Father."

"I trust in you, my child, my brother. I shall open the northern Devils Gate for you whenever you are ready to depart." A proud grin pulled across Lucifer's attractive features there afterwards. He returned to the soul upon his plate before him, drinking in the orb's shining essence. "And oh yes, just one last thing..."

"What is it, Father?"

"Please _enjoy_ your time on the Surface, Corvus."


	3. Hidden Truths and Open Falsehoods

"Do you want to go check the trap this morning?"

Little Elizabeth grinned, looking up at her elder brother. "Let's race there!"

"Really?" Edward blinked at the idea of a challenge such as this coming from her. "But I'm taller than you."

"I'm fast!" she exclaimed with persistence.

She was always rather confident for a six-year-old.

"Alright, alright..."

The boy circled in place then, searching the garden's floor for a starting mark. He seized a twig laying nearby in the end and he used it to draw a line into the soil. "Stand here. On three."

And afterwards both siblings matched their feet on to build the anticipation.

"...One," Edward counted first, glancing her way briefly.

"...Two," added Elizabeth, wetting her lips.

"_Three!"_ They cried in impeccable unison, and the two of them bolted straight off into the direction of the forest.

Certainly being older, Edward's strides put him paces ahead of his sister. Elizabeth merely continued to giggle all the while though, seeing she wasn't that far behind. They sharply curved onto the hidden path which they had tracked a herd of stags on before. And once they scaled over the small hill next, they would be very close to the trap Edward that had set up earlier this week.

But unexpectedly, Edward's foot happened to be snagged under a risen tree root, and Elizabeth had no time to slow herself down when she noticed. And so the siblings roughly collided, her front to his backside.

With similar _"oofs!,"_ Edward and Elizabeth tumbled into the mass of tall meadow weeds below.

Then when lying upon the ground after the incident, both of them gazed into the morning grey sky slightly dazed, and glanced at one another later on.

And despite everything, together they suddenly burst out with laughter.

The following sound however, had caused Edward to grow still immediately once more as he put his guard back up. His first finger went vertical against his sealed lips in a demand for silence.

Elizabeth followed suit beyond a shadow of any doubt, listening in carefully as well.

A faint rustle of leaves soon reached their ears from about four feet to the right. Edward and Elizabeth rolled over, belly-crawling shoulder to shoulder, until the game trap emerged into sight past the sleek olive blades of grass.

At that point, Elizabeth gasped. Because there in the cage, waited a timid, yet very attractive hare. Its long ears were folded back, its whiskers twitched endlessly, and rich copper patches ran across the white base color of its coat.

"I'll skin her for you," Edward promised in a hushed voice before long, "and we'll take it back to Father. That coat would make fine material for hunting boots. Or even a tasteful pair of gloves."

Therefore in result, Edward finally the unfastened the trap, clutching at the hare; and while she struggled in his hold, Edward reached behind to unsheathe the dagger attached to his belt. Angling the blade under the animal's throat, he swallowed hard.

Elizabeth could see her brother was hesitating before the required act of slaughter, but she relied on him to finish the task. She truly reveled in the fantasy of bow hunting with her parents in the upcoming fall if they'd allow it. So gently, she tried to cheer him on, "Do it, Edward, I know you can."

The hare continued to shake with fear and apprehension. Edward sighed. He had never killed a living creature in his entire lifetime, besides the occasional spider on his bedroom wall. At the age of nine, he was still quite young yet too. He'd been out in the woods numerous times, yes, but all the game he practiced skinning and gutting were always already slain by their father's doing beforehand.

"I can do it if you want." Elizabeth added then.

"You?" her brother reproached cynically. "Are you not afraid of the blood?"

"I've watched father from the door a few times. You know, while he was in the shed out back after foxhunting? He starts at the hind legs, and works his way up to the belly. The head comes last." Hand held up before him now, she beckoned for the blade fearlessly.

Although still somewhat reluctant and partway puzzled, Edward surrendered the dagger.

And at the best to her youthful abilities, Elizabeth worked the blade up into the hare's foot.

* * *

The two siblings burst through the front doors of their mansion with the rabbit skin wrapped up in one of the cloths from the sports shed.

Soon after doing so Elizabeth located her father in the Den reading over his business files, and then openly presented her recent trophy to him.

Alexis was undoubtedly surprised that his daughter had managed such a thing. Even for a mere child younger than his son, the skinning job appeared almost flawless. Nonetheless, he smiled and he patted her crown of golden curls. He also promised that surely, she would have her dream winter boots topped with fur.

"Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Middleford!"

The Marchioness had walked up to the doorway aprubtly.

"Please, why is your new white dress drenched with _blood?!_" The little girl cringed, hearing the shrillness of her mother's voice. "Have a maid change your clothing this instant, and while you are at it, wipe the dirt from your face. It's almost time to leave!"

"Yes, Mama," Elizabeth responded, feeling her heart slowing sinking its way down her ribcage. She gave her father a meek wave as she turned back around, leaving the animal skin behind. But with receiving one fleeting, reassuring wink from him in return, her sadness lifted just as quickly.

* * *

Due to her mother's most recent demands, Elizabeth presently stood bare in the privacy of her own chambers now. Her nursemaid hummed a light happy tune as she prepared the child a new Sunday dress for more proper wear.

"Must I go to church, Marie?"

Marie refocused on her, blinking. "Hmm? Well, we all keep God's day Holy to avoid eternal damnation, mustn't we now?"

"But I don't enjoy going to church," Elizabeth pouted honestly. "It's too long. And it always makes me feel bad."

"Bad?" the maid echoed. "Why, whatever do you mean by this, child? Church is a place of peace and hope."

"I sting when we go."

Marie stared at her, processing these words. Sure she heard stories...casual rumors, in truth. Indeed _this_ darling child could not have possibly...? No, it couldn't be tangible... But quickly, she recovered by clearing her throat and finished with the buttoning the back of Elizabeth's second dress of that morning. "Try your best to enjoy yourself then, no?"

"...Alright." Elizabeth turned her head away.

Pretending to be ill to dodge church in the Middleford household was utterly out of question. In fact, it was perilous to even try such impractical excuses. Elizabeth justly _was_ dreading another service, though. She knew well enough that she could never sit still through an entire mass before this particular Sunday. She'd never felt her best inside of church. Ever since she could remember...her father had always taken her outside early because of her unexplainable restlessness. Why would today have any other outcome?

She just could not understand why they continued attemting to change it.

* * *

The second pew towards the front, on the left-hand side, was always reserved for the Middleford clan. And even though attending church was not exactly Elizabeth's ideal pastime, she reminded herself that every Sunday her family would visit the Phantomhive Manor for breakfast.

The opening prayers were preeched, the blessings of peace were given, and in due time the priest had begun that day's sermon.

Elizabeth simply had to focus on seeing her adorable Ciel in exactly one hour or so. _Find a light at the end of every long and dark tunnel your faced with_, her father liked to quote on special occasions. However at times, an hour could seem like eternity to a small child.

Her eyes started to water eventually. Her little fists rubbed at them desperately, on and on, over and over again. The Marchioness caught on to this too, and immediately she swatted her daughter's hands back down into her lap—although that had not solved anything. Elizabeth's fingers began to twitch next beyond her sense of self-control. She scratched at her wrists, which of course in a while caused several red lines to accumulate upon her skin.

"Elizabeth Ethel! Must you behave like this every Sunday?" hissed the Marchioness into her ear once the priest motioned the crowd to sit in their seats again.

"I can't help it, Mama," Elizabeth whimpered helplessly, "honest."

And when the Marchioness actually saw how bloodshot and moist her daughter's eyes had really become, and how potent the thin marks on her flesh were, she finally reflected a level of real concern.

As subtle as she could, she addressed her husband. "_Psst_, dear...take her across the street until the communion is over with again, won't you?"

* * *

And so on that very Sunday, instead of seeing Ciel like Elizabeth had waited so longingly for, the Middleford couple had ordered their cab to stop at the public medical headquarters.

Elizabeth was plopped on a bench set right outside of the Doctor's Office, holding Edward's caring hand tightly as tears ran down her reddened cheeks. The allergy testing had not been the most entertaining thing in the world to experience.

Needle after needle had pricked her shoulders during those horrid twenty minutes.

"It's alright, Lizzie," Edward coxed endlessly, trying very hard to display a supportive smile for her.

She hiccupped heavily and nodded. Yes, it was alright. The examination was now in the past and she'd remain strong. Her mother was ever convinced that a true woman does not shed tears of sorrow. For the sake of the loved ones around her and for the love she holds for herself, sorrow was nothing but weakness.

The results which were soon recited for Elizabeth's parents, had proven no allergy nested in Elizabeth's body whatsoever. No herb, nor animal hair had angered her skin to such a degree. Hence, the doctor was left to suggest one final (stretched) theory. The certain wood in which the church pews were carved out of were making her body react like that... Either it had to be that, or it could have been the bread they used for in the communion ritual. (Something with grains in it).

Thus in conclusion, that was the last Sunday of many Sundays in which Elizabeth Middleford had appeared in church.

* * *

**Note: I have no idea how allergy tests would have worked back then, granted if they even had any clue what allergies really existed. I just needed that scene for the story, and I was too tired to reaserch it. So, please bare with me for now.**


	4. Fleeting Thoughts of Lady Elizabeth

_**Present Day**_

* * *

A Phantomhive Head must never to be made a fool. Ciel wasn't all that narrowed-sighted.

Since their very first few weeks together, he had seen how generously Sebastian treated Elizabeth on her given appearances.

Not that it mattered to him really—it just happened to steal his awareness again the prior night, when Elizabeth had yet again insisted on dressing the demon in something pink and bulking yellow streamers. And Sebastian simply conformed in the deed without complaint. Even the other servants grumbled behind her back, knowing how utterly preposterous the butler looked.

"Say, Sebastian...," the young Earl initiated, as he watched his morning tea being prepared for him. "What is Elizabeth to you?"

Sebastian paused in mid-pour, his dark strands curtaining his features. Though in short, he said, "She is your fiancé, is she not? That is what I know her as, Master."

"Yes—" Ciel sensed he was being blunt with reason. "But you don't seem to speak poorly of her on any level, in or out of her presence— I mean, you even build up the nerve to tease _me_ from time to time. I'm merely curious what makes my fiancé so special in the eyes of a demon. Surely, a beast of your status does not think that highly of a mortal outside of a contract."

Sebastian merely passed Ciel a plate with a scone placed upon it and listened to Ciel's opinions. He cast the boy a stern expression. "Is it an order for me to reply?"

Ceil thought it over while taking a bite of his breakfast. He swallowed. "No, I suppose that's not quite necessary."

"Well then, in that case," the demon concluded with a clearing of his throat, "I should advise the Master to not ask questions he isn't ready to hear the truth to."

The Earl honestly was not anticipating a daring answer like that. He stared at his butler then, displaying that he was slightly taken aback involuntarily. And the demon solely left their words where they lay, added nothing more to the conversation. He bowed to him as usual, nevertheless, and slowly departed from the room pushing out trolley cart along with him.

After a few minutes of being alone, Ciel ultimately whirled his office chair to face the pair of tall windows behind him, reflecting on Sebastian's unexpected peculiar behavior.

Not ready to hear the truth? What detail had he possibly overlooked? And regrettably his supposed harmless curiosity, only lead him to feel a horrid shift on the horizon.

Things evidently were more complex than they appeared.

Ciel's visible eye lifted to gaze down the long vacant driveway on pure habit. _"Elizabeth..."_


	5. In the Dark

**Thank you to all those who have patient.**

_**Italic**_ **flashback**

* * *

Letting go from the day's traditional routines down in his servants' quarters, Corvus now lolled against the closed wooden door with a plain—yet, almost regrettable and vexed—expression.

"_...What is Elizabeth to you?"_

What could've driven the boy to question him _that _of all things?

Lady Elizabeth had been a reappearing topic between Master and demon numerous times over the given timespan of the contract. She of course, was a main and anticipated part of the Earl's domestic life. Nonetheless, Corvus had always been the one to discuss her in terms of Ciel's social approach towards her, not his own. Never. Even if he was in fact, an actual common butler, the topic would not have been any less appropriate.

Ciel surely had no _idea_ what he could have spoiled! The damage he could have done! The entire operation could have overturned, even before The Day to Come was in their sights.

"_...What is Elizabeth to you?"_

"Oh, Master," he muttered, facing the nothingness surrounding him. "If you knew..."

The truth would probably become Ciel's final end—undo his last thread of humanistic sanity he managed to clutch onto after the piles of past trauma he's faced.

But Corvus figured the memories which were currently creeping up on him, had to remain buried for a while longer, if not by the contract's expiration date.

* * *

_In the local hospital, Ciel's family had gathered together to see his living person with their own eyes. The adults present there, all hobbled into room simultaneously to grill Ciel with concerned questions and affection. Plus, they just had to fuss over his new look, pampering him like a shrewdness of apes. _

_So-called Sebastian though, lingered in the hallway outside on his watch. Their enthusiastic, sensitive cries almost hurting his keen ears. _

_But shortly, that was when he noticed her, momentarily left behind by her guardians. _

_Her lacey-ruffle-clad-self stood rigidly and soundlessly nearby, and stared straight at him curiously._

_He quickly scanned the medical dorm again, observing his new Master and relatives were still preoccupied with ongoing banters about the baffling circumstances. _

_Therefore, he deemed this as his leading opportunity. He approached the future Heir delicately and humbly. _

_It didn't take long for him to grasp that she certainly was a lovely little creature...ironically, practically __angelic.__ Having gentle yellow curls with pale flesh, she highly resembled one of the women talking to Ciel at the moment—her legendary mortal mother, no doubt. She was surprisingly taller than Ciel too, suggesting she must have been ahead of him on the maturing scale a bit. What year was her birth...ten, eleven Earth years ago? The math seemed correct. _

_Now, bowing appropriately, he met her gaze for his introduction. "Sebastian is my name, Milady. It's to my extreme pleasure to meet you. I am the new butler for Master Ciel."_

_Hearing this, she briefly tipped her head out of childlike inquisitiveness, refusing to answer. _

_"Do I unnerve you?" he tried again._

_She shook her head in defiance, her blue ribbons swaying with the motion._

_Was the child mute, he thought? He feared it was a side-effect of the grand union. If so, Sebastian assumed his Father would not have been pleased to know this at all._

_"Is there something the matter then, little one?"_

_"You..."_

_"Yes?" And he felt more satisfied in learning she owned a proper, wonderful operating voice. _

_"You seem—" she pondered briefly over what she wanted to say exactly, "—familiar, somehow."_

_He granted her a contented, closed smile before responding. "So you do, Milady. May I ask what is your name?"_

_"Elizabeth Middleford," she simplified her full Christian title for his benefit, "but everyone calls me Lizzie."_

_He then said rather playfully, "__Lizzie__...really? And I could almost have pegged you for a Lucie."_

* * *

With both of them kept right under his demonic nose—using the boy in the meantime to get to the girl—all the dots plotted by Fate have been in the process of completing.

And it was believed the events of Ciel's drastic life were purely a case a bad luck...


	6. The Lightbringer

The next few couple of days were virtually dull at Phantomhive Manor. One mission, a secret drug deal. That was all Ciel had to undergo.

Although a little ways across town, the Middleford household was in a heated buzz.

The team of hired staff there spent hours cleaning, dusting, waxing, and polishing the entire mansion from top to bottom in honor of the family's important summer guest. A close, communal friend and private business ally.

Edward and Elizabeth were both awakened a bit earlier than usual, partially by the commotion happening a floor below their rooms, and partially because their mother pounded upon their doors, ordering them to ready themselves.

Elizabeth, personally, couldn't bring herself to yearn for more sleep. She never had been quite cheeriest person in the mornings, honestly put, but she was not irritated based on the occasion at hand. Besides her the suppressed memories of her aunt and uncle alive with their younger laughing Ciel...Luca Lightbringer was always a delight to have a as a yearly visitor.

When each June came about, she and her brother knew it only meant they were going to be showered with greeting gifts all to their childhood pleasure.

Luca lived in a nobility village in Wales, earning his way through life as a top land lord. And Elizabeth and Edward labeled him a third parent-figure on their part. He was also a generally wide-cultured mentor and an excellent conversationist for Elizabeth. He was very accepting towards her and always had acted fascinated while she chatted on, accompanying him during an afternoon stroll...so unlike most men she knew. There had been many warm nights she had drifted off into sleep, just listening to his soothing tone as he offered her a late-night story. Their family-like bond was evident and lasting, but never taken for granted.

And with Ciel being moody with her again, refusing to respond to her brief little charming love notes which she sent out to him that month for his own comfort as usual...Elizabeth noted there would someone there who'd be willing to lift _her_ spirits for a change.

After unfolding the damp rags out from her hair, Elizabeth combed through her fresh curls which flowed down gracefully and pinned them up. Then she slipped into her corset before trying the new summer gown recently purchased by her parents out for size. The layers starting from the the waistline were a rich purple. It wasn't exactly her favorite styles amongst various styles. And she felt...odd wearing higher-heeled shoes for the first time for the season in place of her black training boots. Though Elizabeth supposed she looked swell enough for Luca's arrival.

* * *

Elizabeth advanced for downstairs with maids trailing her, attempting to complete the very last details of her makeup, and she immediately spotted Edward meeting her hallway in the corridor, fixing a pair of cufflinks in. He was dressed in a semi-casual suit unseen before as well accented with a matching color scheme. Once Edward had skimmed her outfit in return, they shared a common amused, exasperated look before descending the steps together.

"Do you think our folks are ever going to realize we don't to need to be color-coordinated for every little special event?" Her brother muttered into her closest ear.

Elizabeth merely let out a light laugh and shook her head unknowingly. "I can't wait to see what they're wearing."

The Marchioness stood tall with her hand properly tucked within the crook of her husband's arm before the main entrance. Edward reached out and took his sister's hand to steer in the right direction, making sure their feet measured up with their parents.

"You both look splendid." The Marchioness praised when she noticed them come down. "Well done."

Edward and Elizabeth stole another humorous glance from each other and they stated in unison, "Thank you, Mother."

Paula was the one to open the doors. And on cue, Luca was there waiting on the outside platform. His tall handsome form was dressed charmingly in a soft blue tux, hand curved over a silver-plated walking stick, and his russet hair had been slicked back. His dark eyes crinkled slightly as his features lifted into a cheerful smirk after he strutted inside. The two humble servants he had on each side in contrast, wore the common colors for house workers—one maid and one steward—both of which, happened to have natural jet-black hair, matching eyes, and remarkably whitish skin. Their expressions remained quite calm and ordinary, but respectful just the same.

To some odd degree, they highly reminded Lizzie of Sebastian.

"It's been some time, dear Luca." Alexis strode forward similarly, reaching out and offered a firm hand to shake.

"Yes it has, Al, too long," their visitor told him, accepting the gesture. "But to be here on this fine summer afternoon is a real blessing. Ah, you Marchioness—so lovely as always." His lips then pressed against her knuckles lightly.

Edward soon mirrored his father's actions as Luca stepped down the line of Middleford members. "Good to see you again, Sir. I hope your travels were satisfactory."

"Of course, thank you, Edward. You are indeed turning into a strapping lad. Just as I thought."

Then last, though certainly not least—the young, excited, beautiful Elizabeth, finally had her turn to greet him.

He chortled. "And little Lizzie, how could I ever forget you?"

A warm sensation surged through her veins once Luca's hands moved from Edward's welcoming grip to cup her upper arms. It was somehow so supportive and fulfilling in its strange way. It was as if all of her yearnings, heartbreaking desires, and heavy doubts seemed to float off, with the unspoken promise of new possibilities. It truly amazed her. His eyes...so deep...so _alive_.

(He smiled broader when her own green eyes had flashed inky black at the physical contact. It was a sign she'd been open to the connection all along. To the call of his blood.)

"I'm so glad you've come, Luca. I have so much to tell you." replied Lizzie gently.

"Well then, I don't want you to grant you anything but my time. However, I believed your parents wanted to surprise you two with a glorious picnic near the lake first."

Edward's head turned towards their parents the moment hers had, seeing a pair of relaxed knowing smiles stretching across their faces.

They haven't gone to the lake in years!

* * *

**Please, bear with me for now. The plot will pick up, I swear. Just trying to set up the stage for a dramatic effect.**


	7. It's Not Needed

While they unloaded themselves from the wagon, Luca guided the family to a small appealing picnic table already set and equally fit for five people on top of their usual hill. The meal preparations apparently were taken care of by Luca's servants (later presented as Mercy and Rudolf) a little sometime beforehand his arrival at the masion.

Truthfully, the last time Elizabeth laid eyes on those swaying blue-green waters had been the summer prior to Ciel's disappearance.

The scattered search for his strange whereabouts had filled most of their days with dread, lack of sleep, snooping reporters and investigators. And even after the changed Ciel was reintroduced to the city, the cheerful mood had somehow been phased out nonetheless. Thier lakeside gatherings with Luca Lightbringer therefore simply melted into tea sessions set up within the ballroom following the event.

They seated about the table, listening to Mercy play the flute impeccably, standing nearby. Her apron drifted sideways with the flow of the wind. Luca stole the honor of pouring them drinks as he told absurd stories which occurred during the first part of this year involving his business and townspeople. The various jams and types of bread, the freshly-picked fruit in glass bowls, the meat slices and vegetables all had tasted more outstanding than they looked as well.

The private choir of jokes and laughs was an amazing sound to hear after so long.

* * *

Later on Elizabeth's parents had leisurely strolled away, hand in hand, tracing the sandy shoreline below. Rudolf and Mercy cleaned the remains of the picnic content, and then went along with Edward in the nearby clearing. The Middleford boy and Lightbringer steward soon handled appropriate-sized branches, loosing themselves in a fencing training act. The clicks of one wooden tool hitting the other echoed out across the hovering heat. Edward lunged his false weapon at his opponent, who swiftly dove under. From what it seemed, Rudolf was a helpful instructor, considering he had just met Edward earlier on that day.

Meanwhile Lizzie, had ventured towards her traditional spot—a arched stone bridge, which now possessed a weed-invested flooring and its slim outer frame appeared more moldy and aged. She leaned upon it nontheless, watching the others wallow in their own airs of entertainment. Closing her doll-bright eyes, she inhaled the sweet, organic aroma of the wilderness; felt the breeze caress her maturing features almost affectionately. Lizzie loved the warmest months of the year. She frankly _hated_ the cold. She _hated_ the ice, the snow mounds, the death of green forests...the _annoyingly_ _loud_ Christmas carolers roaming the streets...even if she would tell bystanders differently. She wouldn't mind not encountering another winter in her lifetime, which was ironic, since Ciel's very birthday happened to be in the middle of winter. But still, according to the silly Astrology charts her father liked to collect from published articles as his side hobby—her own birthday fit into the timeframe of the Fire Element. Fire children naturally felt at their best, felt more whole and internally connected during the spring and summer. What was more ironic—she'd say this fact could be indeed fact.

"You are not typically one to be this withdrawn."

Lightbringer's sudden observation pulled Lizzie from her mild trance. She whirled her head around to discover him bending against the railing beside her, holding a left-over apple in his hand. He bit into the red shining fruit, then swallowed. "Now, what is on your mind, Milady?"

He promised her time to chat, and he came to do so. Luca was so punctual and highly reliable. Every year he was expected to show himself on 6th of June, and he had yet to let them down.

A real man of his word.

Elizabeth admired this in a person.

She allowed herself to continue smiling in a dreamlike manner. "The horizon...sometimes it's comforting to picture myself soaring off into the beyond. Envision a different place than this world..." Though as she responded, Lizzie's sucked in her lower lip, regretting it. She _knew_ women should not dream in public. And proper women of English Nobility did _not_ display desire for such impossible things outside of the life selected for her. Thus Lizzie was eager to change the subject in hopes he wouldn't question it. "I—I cannot express my level of gratitude, Luca. The joy you always bring to my family is truly unforgettable."

"Dear one," he huffed calmly, apparently immune to her anxiety. "you _are_ my family, the only. Your health and personal contentment...I take it all very seriously."

She giggled again, bemused. "I thought you once said you have a very large family back at home."

"Aye, I did and I do. Though from time to time, there will be family members that are not...adequate enough."

Resting her elbow upon the railing's creaking surface, Elizabeth's slender chin hit the dip of her curled-in hand in agreeable contemplation. "Hm. I suppose."

_Dammit._

There she went on again! Not thinking thoroughly before she opened her mouth. Mother would have snapped at her.

_Remain worthy of your titles._

"Lizzie—I want you to know—every little secret you share shall be strictly safe with me. Don't hide your born nature from me. It's not needed."

Stunned and sensing a shift in the atmosphere takig place, her eyes met his once over. "What do you mean?"

He attempted to clarify his motives, biting into the apple on second time. "It is very visible to me that you are bothered by whatever, or _whoever_, you're forced to endure these days."

"Oh?"

"Although your façade is very impressive, I however, am quite intuitive compared to the next person."

He emitted each word so confidently that she couldn't help but imagine Luca was actually probing inside of her thoughts.

"Well, as you suggested," Elizabeth played her phrases carefully. If she was singled out on purpose, even by a comrade, the ultimate key was to be blunt. She turned her cheek. "...I _endure _it."

"Certainly. I'm merely reminding you that you always have a friend in me." Then with a deep chuckle, Lightbringer moved around in order to part from the bridge. He tossed her his bitten apple over his shoulder on his way and Elizabeth instinctively caught it in both hands.

She studied it briefly in wonder.


End file.
